


Olivia

by little_hours



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Dean - Freeform, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Death, Demon, Demons, Drugs, F/M, Girl - Freeform, God - Freeform, Horror, Lolita, M/M, OC, Sam - Freeform, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Sex, Smoking, Supernatural - Freeform, Thriller, Underage - Freeform, Winchester - Freeform, Young, dirty - Freeform, druglords, dying, sam and dean - Freeform, young girl older man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-09-15 09:28:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9228803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_hours/pseuds/little_hours
Summary: "You know I'm old enough to be your father, right?" Sam warned.The young girl laughed, licking her cherry red lips, "So?"





	1. Chapter 1

YO I'M BACK DUDES. If you are new here, I'm Little-Hours! Hi! I blew up on AO3 around September-November last year (2k16) for writing "Prey"; a BillDip fanfic. But sadly, it was never finished due to being hacked and having the story Orphaned If you're an oldie, and we've already met, then SWEET GLAD YA'LL ARE BACK YO!


	2. An Understanding

_Strawberries..._

 

She smelled like strawberries and the vanilla incense she'd burn almost daily, in the corner of my room. I run a finger along the chest of drawers top that was riddled with ash from the incense burned there long ago. The dark wood almost made the ash seem invisible until you'd run your finger along the top and collect a hefty clump of it on your finger. Vanilla was her favorite scent yet her perfume was strawberry. I never got to ask why. I never got to ask her many things that I wish I had. Like "Why do you always look away after I kiss you", and "Why did you leave me".

That question burned the most. It burned more than the vanilla incense stick I'm currently lighting. Only a few lay there next to the burner. I rationed the last four sticks like I was stranded somewhere on a desert island; rationing food from the shipwreck until the day I run out and eventually die of hunger. I saved these last few sticks, savoring the feeling that washed over me every time I smelt the warm vanilla scent. I looked for the sticks wherever they sold incense and such. The shop that used to carry them now sold only disgusting scents that smelled like burning wood and sage. They seem to have disappeared from the face of the earth like she had. 

As the scent filled the room, my memories seem to come back vividly and wildly. I turn from the drawers to the bed. I can perfectly picture her there; in my bed. Her hair unruly and the sounds of her moaning seemed to play right before my eyes. I was like a ghost waiting in the corner of the room, watching myself and her interact. 

I touch her cheek, and use my other hand to brush a stray hair away that was tickling her nose. She laughed and leaned forward to kiss me. 

I can remember the soft lips meeting mine in a gentle kiss. She was never frantic or rushed or harsh. She took her time to kiss me, and I could feel every emotion associated with love in that kiss. Did she truly love me? I can't say. In the end I could've sworn she hated my entire being. She was young and when you're young, you aren't capable of feeling love...

I ask you dear reader to not hate her. I deserved everything coming my way. The events leading up to this day were nothing but a flimsy fantasy. A bubble about to burst perfectly at any time. All it took was one odd look and disapproving gaze. Gossip. A tip to the authorities. A comment made to the parents about how I was getting too close to their daughter.

All of those things happened.

My kind reader, do not pity me. Because you see, I'm the criminal in this fantasy. My own sick twisted criminal fantasy. Do not hate her for my actions. I loved someone I could never keep. She was my light and love but never truly mine.

She was like a rose, and I was the gardener that plucked her from her thriving stem. Sometimes the most healthy of the garden will turn out to die shortly after picking. Our relationship resembled that.

I was selfish and against all conscience, I took what I couldnt have. 

Do not hate her for not loving me, dear reader. Because I am not the victim but the villain. She was young and beautiful, but too young for me...

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 1

 

It's been almost a month since Dean and I parted ways. We only communicate through coded letters and the occasional set place to meet to exchange information. Do I miss him? Of course I do. But it's for the best. When the hunting got slow and the trails ran cold; we picked up some...other business that our skills fit perfectly.

Drug dealing.

Yes I know. How horrific and terrible of us. How could we do such a thing?

Drug dealing wasn't our first choice either. But two years ago, a case of missing persons led us to this. And once we infiltrated the ring, we found ourselves mildly entertained with the benefits it provided for us. Things such as access to underground rings and face to face with criminals we only heard about on tv. Needless to say, once we started we couldn't stop. We found ourselves changing slowly, forgetting our hunting past and focusing solely on how much cash we were making; which was a fuck ton. 

Going from spending money we didnt have on motel rooms, gas, and food; to lavish parties with all the $220 vodka shots you could down; it was tempting to keep this secret job that fell right into our laps. Our skills kept us reigning the high places we achieved and in good favors with our bosses. We were untouchable.

Until an undercover agent let the authorities know about our whereabouts in November and by January they re-located me all the way to Georgia while Dean went to California. "Best that we spread out" they said. I have been taking residence in a small to bedroom one bath house about 800-1,000 square feet. I'm unsure; I don't care much about the creaky floor and cold drafts that seem to appear in new places. All I cared about was laying low and keeping things cool until Dean and I could safely be reunited. I missed my brother dearly and the loneliness I felt didn't do much for my health. Some days I would just mope around when I didn't work at the small mechanic shop not too far from here. A good two or three blocks away. Easy walk. I amused myself with the tedious job in hopes it would pass time. It didnt.

Apart from the mechanic shop, This town was small, but the upper class that resided here greatly affected how maintained it was kept. Just across the street, farther than normal but not too far, was a two story house with white pillars and a great window facing the front of the house. At night you could see a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling; illuminating the staircase and hall. Some nights I would stare in and see if I could catch a glimpse of the family that lived inside. I've always been careless about my neighbors; usually writing them off as snobbish and nosy. The gossip in the little street that was overcast by large willow trees, was tight knit and your business was everyone's if you chose to divulge your life story or any secrets to them. I already know I've been labeled the outcast. I don't speak to anyone and when I first moved here I was invited to lavish parties (though not as lavish as the ones with half-naked women dancing in curtains thirty feet in the air) but I rejected the invitations rudely. I only took an interest in my neighbors across the street because I have never seen them out much. They always seemed to be cooped up inside. I'm working my majority of the time though; I'm sure they go out then.

I walk out of my bedroom and into the small living room. The floorboards creaking under my weight. I yawn and look at the time on the wall clock, "Six fucking thirty..." I groan. So much for sleeping in on my day off like usual. I walk into the kitchen that was still cluttered with boxes from my recent- and frantic- move. I hadn't gotten to unpacking due to laziness and long days at work. I rustle through a box and find a mug to drink this morning's coffee from. I take the mug to the counter and begin the routine of making sub-par coffee. 

Once it's finished, I take my full cup to the couch; passing the window between the kitchen and living room. I pause; a bright yellow bus catching my eye. I stand there to see it pull up to the house across the street. " _I didn't know they had a child_..." I thought.

I almost walk away when the quiet shout of _"See you later"_ in a girls voice, hits my ears. I turn back and my heart stopped a moment.

Running down the white porch steps, was a girl about fifteen. She has a mess of long wavy brown locks and her attire was that of a long white coat, white knee socks, and pink flats. Her skin almost blended in with the snow. Her dark hair contrasting perfectly with the pale flesh; making her have a Snow White resemblance. She was beautiful.

I watch as she boards the bus and it slowly pulls away with squeaking breaks. My mouth hung low as I just stood there, my coffee becoming cold...

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today hits one month that I've waited for her to arrive at three o'clock; I can hear the squeaky breaks of the bus pull up. I frantically got up from my position on the couch and leaped to the window. I watched intently as the doors opened and out stepped pink flats and white knee socks. She was smiling and waving goodbye to her friends on the bus as she jumped off and the bus began to pull away. Friday had come and no doubt she would not be seeing her friends at school the next day.

"I'll see you Monday!" she called to them.

My heart fluttered as I replayed the phrase in my head. Her voice being dissected and thought about over and over. Like a broken record the same words were played repeatedly. Her voice was childish and playful. Appealing to the ears and adorable beyond words.

Her smile faded as her friends on the bus drove away until they were out of sight. She turned to walk back to the glorious cookie-cutter home. She walks to the black ironed gate and steps inside, letting it slam behind her as most children tend to do with screen doors and cabinets. Bouncing up the steps, she walks to the door and heads inside without another action to be watched.

 _Fuck..what am I doing?_ I thought as I continued to stand and stare like I was in a trance. I'm drooling like a crazed animal. She's so young... what was so alluring to me about her? This school girl across the street?

I begin to feel ridiculous. I'm middle-aged and stalking a little girl. Thinking about kissing her soft pink lips, touching her pale freckled skin, her little nose scrunching up as I place a kiss on her forehead; I couldn't bear it. The image of her asleep, naked, in my bed on a Saturday morning was too tempting. The thought of holding her and breathing in her scent was almost infuriating to me. I wanted what I couldn't have and I knew it somewhere in the back of my stubborn mind.

I'm still standing there near the large window. Forcing myself to walk away from it was practically impossible for me to do. Somewhere in my subconscious I hoped she would come outside to play, or go for a walk. My fantasy involved her running straight towards my house; bursting through the door and jumping into my arms. I had to shake myself out of the dream as I realized a moving object in the corner of my eye. I focus on the object by turning my head; as I turned, my heart traveled from my throat then down to my stomach. The pace in my heartbeat quickened and my eyes grew wide as I realized that it was the girl. 

She seemed lost and frantic. She was running from the neighbors house on the right side, to the neighbor on the left. I watched as the door opened and our retired 50-something neighbor stood there speaking to her. The door shut not long after, and she left the front door of the house. I take my eyes away from her for what seems like a moment when i hear a timid knock on my door.

I freeze. I turn slowly towards the door, my hands beginning to sweat. My eyes wide as an owl's. _"Please don't be her"_ I repeated in my mind as I walked to the front door. My hand shaking as I opened it slowly to reveal the girl. "Have you seen my cat?!" She blurts out suddenly.

I stand there in shock. Speechless.

"Please? His name is Jax, he's a rag-doll kitty and he's only a year old! Have you seen him? He's fluffy and cream colored. He's not in my house and I think he escaped out of the window in my room!" she spoke again. "I'm not sure when he went missing but he's certainly lost."

I continued to stare at the girl. Her features were much more beautiful than what I had seen from afar. A small nose set below wide hazel eyes and above full plump lips. Pale freckles dusted her cheeks. I noticed she has a band-aid stuck to her collar bone as well as a small nick on her thigh.

"Hey!" She says, catching my attention.

"Um no, sorry kid." I say, trying to sound rude.

"O-Oh...sorry to bother you then, sir." She turns to leave before spinning around to face me again, "I'm Olivia Marie. I live across the street from you. I see you around sometimes. You like to walk a lot." She giggles. She sticks out her hand to shake mine. I hesitantly grab it and begin to gently shake. She stops smiling at me and looks down at my arm. "Woah cool tattoos! I think they're so cool. Mother tells me they're ugly and rebellious but I secretly love them! Whats that one of?" She asks, the shake turns into her grabbing my forearm with both of her petite hands. The skin visible from my sleeves being pushed up is being traced by her index finger, causing a shiver to run down my spine.

"It's a demon." I say, looking at her while she stares intently at the black figure etched into my skin. "I tattooed it on myself."

"Wow!" She gasps, looking into my eyes, "That's so cool! You're a tattoo artist?"

"No, I just dabble I guess.." 

"Well I think its so cool! What's your name by the way?"

"S-Sam. Sam Winchester." I say. Her angel-eyes making me weak.

"Sam huh? Cute."

I choke. 

"We should hang out sometime. How old are you? You seem kinda old buuuut that wont bother me. I'm used to all the dumb adults that go to my parents garden parties all summer." She pauses then leans in, "They think I'm young but I'm pretty mature for my age!"

I dont know what to say. This innocent little girl wants to spend her time with a guy like me? "Im 33." I say plainly. My hopes arent too high after seeing her face fall.

"Oh. You look old but not that old,"

_Thanks.._

"I just turned 15 in the fall. You don't have to hang out with me if you don't want too. I know grown-ups have this weird thing about not wanting to be around kids." She says in a disappointed tone.

"Maybe." I shrug. "I think your parents wouldn't like you coming over here anyways. I _am_ 18 years older than you, you know."

"I did the math. I don't care, they're barely here anyways. They always have business trips or vacations with their friends to go too. I'm always alone. Hey I'm alone tonight, do you wanna come over? I have this really cool record player and I think we have the same music taste!" She says excitedly.

My jaw drops, the cigarette almost falling from my lips. The girl I've consistently stalked for the past month has just asked me to join her in her house. Alone. While her parents are away..

"Hey I gotta still look for Jax! Yes or no? It's ok if its a no!"

"Y-Yes!" I blurt out. 

"Wow someones excited! Cool I guess come over whenever, I'm always home alone pretty much. Also..." She trails off, her big hazel eyes staring intently at my lips, "Can I try that?"

"Huh?"

"Your thingy." She points at the cigarette between my lips.

"Oh. Yeah sorry kid, no." I roll my eyes. Half of me was shocked by how naive and comfortable she was with me. Then again...she just turned 15 and is incredibly sheltered. She's of course going to be naive.

"Ugh, you're just like my dad. He doesn't let me try his cigars." She laughs. "Well, don't be a stranger. You seem pretty cool!" She says, stepping off my porch without another word. I watch as she skips across the street to head towards another neighbors house. Once she's out of view I slump onto the ground. I rest my head against the frame in my doorway. I continue to reply the past 10 minutes that just occurred. I'm in utter shock and disbelief. My hunter instincts tell me to put my guard up and just focus on getting back to Dean...but my lust is pushing me to pursue the beautiful young creature across from my shitty home.

What is a poor hunter to do?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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